The Pilgrim's Path
by Sir Perfluous
Summary: Jesse McCree had walked in darkness for many years. With Overwatch recalling its heroes back to service and old loyalties being tested, it would take an Angel of Mercy to help him find his way back to the light.
1. Reunions

***I do not own Overwatch. It belongs to Blizzard, but you already knew that. Anyway, t** **his is my first dive into the Overwatch fandom so here goes nothing. Enjoy!**

* * *

A warm golden glow hung over the late afternoon skies as a lone figure trudged up the rocky trail toward the entrance of Watchpoint Gibraltar. The light clinking of spurs coming from the man's boots were the only sounds that filled the dusty pass until a cool sea breeze rolled in. The lone figure stopped and let the breeze rustle his tattered red poncho before he adjusted his brown Stetson hat to ward off the sun's glare.

A light trail of smoke snaked upward from the dying cigar which hung out of the side of the grizzled man's mouth. He took one more puff before tossing it aside and stamping it out. He squinted through the sun's glare and gave a sigh looking at the lonely remains of the old outpost. "Wish I could say it was good to be home."

He continued on the path until he reached the entrance to the base which had once served as an outpost for the organization he had worked for, Overwatch. A faded blue flag with the Overwatch emblem fluttered limply from a nearby flagpole as the lone traveler stopped to gather his bearings. As much as he hated to admit it, it was a depressing sight and an almost accurate image of what the globe spanning defense organization had been reduced to. The fact that the Watchpoint still seemed deserted and quiet did not bode well either.

The traveler listened for a moment and palmed the small transmitter device in his pocket. Surely he couldn't have been the only one to respond to the Recall signal… could he? Why else would he have come all this way? It was a good question that he hadn't even stopped to really ask himself. Overwatch had been disbanded for years. Based on international law, reassembling Overwatch was technically illegal... not that those rules ever really stopped him in the first place. Still, he wondered what exactly was he hoping to find by returning.

He brushed aside the nagging thoughts and spotted the signs of several footprints in the dirt. They led into the base and whether or not they were fellow Overwatch members or bandits, he couldn't be certain. The man placed a ready hand on Peacekeeper, the large futuristic revolver which hung at his hip before carefully making his way inside. After clearing the eerie deserted entrance, he followed the trail as it led toward the base's laboratories. As he entered a small atrium, he stopped when he heard some slight movement. The traveler waited several moments before instinctively whirling around and drawing his pistol on the figure which materialized behind him.

To his shock, he stood face to face with a familiar young woman about ten years his junior. She was thin with a lithe athletic frame and short spiky brown hair. She sported a brown bomber jacket with yellow leggings and the familiar blue glow of a time control device on her chest. The fellow Overwatch agent formerly codenamed Tracer crossed her arms and spoke in her clipped British accent, "Jesse McCree! That's no way to greet an old friend!"

McCree breathed a sigh of relief and lowered his revolver with a grin, "Lena. Hoo-wee, you nearly scared me half to death there little lady."

The younger woman named Lena Oxton gave a laugh and greeted him with a welcoming hug, "It's good to see you again Jesse. How long as it been?"

"Too long I reckon," the gunslinger replied with his own trademark drawl.

"Approximately five years, three months, and eleven days," came another voice from a side hallway. The large hulking form of a gorilla in white powered armor shambled out into the open dragging a large particle weapon just in case there had been an intruder.

McCree smiled and gave a small tip of his hat, "Howdy there Winston. You're lookin' good after all this time. Cut back on a few of those bananas?"

The simian scientist wrinkled his nose and gave a patient huff before leading the way back into one of the conference halls of the empty Watchpoint. "I wish I could say I missed your odd sense of humor McCree, but seeing as how we're a little short-handed I'm afraid we'll have to make do."

McCree and Lena exchanged a small grin and followed their old comrade until they reached a large meeting room. As they passed some other monitors, McCree could see Winston's AI system, Athena fully functional and working to track down other agents. The scruffy gunslinger removed his hat for a moment and scratched at his mop of messy brown hair, "If I'm readin' the cards right here, I reckon I'm the only other one who's bothered to answer the Recall?"

"I'm afraid so," Lena sighed as she time-shifted and zipped across the room to sit in one of the nearby lounge chairs. "Winston and I had been hoping to see some more old faces pop up but so far we've had very little luck."

"I can't say I really blame many of the others," Winston mused while walking toward one of the bay windows, "Ever since the Petras Act was made law, I doubt many agents would want to risk being prosecuted as a vigilante. In these five years, many of them probably went on to rebuild new lives for themselves… second chances they don't want to throw away."

"But not us," McCree muttered grimly, "That's why we're here, innit? We were all members of the original team, weren't we? When we spend so much time trying to make things right, what's left to go back to in a world that doesn't want us in the first place?"

Winston adjusted his glasses and raised a skeptical eyebrow, "Frankly, I'm surprised that you of all people returned. Perhaps you could tell us Jesse. For all your talk of doing good, whose side are you on?"

The gunslinger scowled and raised a defensive finger, "Now don't you git on me about that again Winston. You know I left Blackwatch behind. Gabriel Reyes might have been a bad apple, but I sided with Jack in the end, remember?"

"Eventually," Winston replied without trying to hide his skepticism.

Lena hopped off the couch and zipped to stand between the two and break up their quarrel, "Winston. Jesse. Enough. Winston… Jesse came back, didn't he? He answered the Recall and said he wants to do good. Shouldn't we try to give him the benefit of the doubt?"

The gorilla huffed again before lumbering over to a workstation, "I will Lena… for your sake."

"Much obliged," McCree nodded toward Lena before walking over to look out at the orange gold sun hanging over the ocean, "Fact o' the matter is, I'm not quite sure why I came back either. Maybe there's somethin' to be said for second chances, and maybe I just have nowhere else to go. When I got the Recall signal… well, comin' back just felt like the right thing to do, you know?"

Lena gave her friend a nod and gently touched his arm before walking over to help Winston at his computer console. As he stood watching the later afternoon sun hang over the skies, McCree couldn't help but wince a little. Winston having brought up his time in Blackwatch had stung him... maybe even touched a nerve. Still, his old comrade was right to be skeptical. Any old member of Overwatch would be justified in feeling the same way. By being part of the organization's black ops wing, McCree had done some questionable things in his past. Hell, he had once been part of a criminal gang before Gabriel Reyes had even recruited him to Overwatch. At the time, it was an offer he couldn't refuse: either rot in jail with the rest of the Deadlock Gang or put his skills to good use in aiding others.

Under Reyes' training and direction, McCree realized he did enjoy trying to do the "right" thing, even if that meant sometimes crossing some lines. Still, he couldn't help but wonder what happened to the old Deadlocks. Were they still in prison? Were they scattered to the winds just like McCree's new Overwatch gang had been too? Then again, what did it matter? He had been on the losing side of both organizations and saw them broken apart leaving him alone and rudderless. Was her here because Overwatch really needed him… or was he the one who really needed Overwatch?

He pondered those thoughts while reaching for another cigar that he kept tucked away under his poncho. He put the cigar in his mouth and prepared to light it when he saw a shocking sight. In the light of the Mediterranean sun, an angelic female figure in a white suit descended down into the line of sight of the windows. Her pale blonde hair waved in the wind as a pair of technologically created wings fanned out from her back allowing her to hover and peer inside the base. The angel stopped and her eyes went wide just as McCree stepped back and opened his mouth in shock, "Mercy…"

His unlit cigar tumbled to ground as Lena glanced over and zipped to the window in sudden excitement. "Oh my gosh! Winston! Open the windows, quick! It's Dr. Ziegler!"

The gorilla pressed a button at his console and watched as the large bay windows of the base retracted allowing entry to the winged figure outside. The beautiful blonde woman touched down gently and deactivated her wings gracing everyone with a soft angelic smile, "Hello."

The room fell silent in the presence of the angelic Overwatch agent before Lena clasped her hands and gave her a hug, "Dr Ziegler! You're back too!"

"Yes, thank you. It is good to be back," she replied with her Swiss accent while gently stroking Tracer's hair. She turned her eyes on the other two men in the room, "Winston, I'm happy to see you again. And Jesse…"

McCree blinked in shock before removing his hat in a respectful way, "Angela… I… welcome back."

Dr. Angela Ziegler fixed him with a curious expression before nodding and joining the others around a nearby table. The former head of Overwatch's medical division gave a discouraged look, "I thought things looked quiet on the outside of the base. I just didn't think it would be this quiet."

"There's always hope," Winston replied with a slight melancholy in his voice, "We're still trying to contact the other agents around the world. Maybe a few more will return."

"Until then, I reckon we figure out what to do bout our chain o' command," McCree said as he recovered his cigar and stuck it at the side of his mouth, "Now that Jack's gone, we're a little short in the leadership department."

"You aren't nominating yourself for that position, are you Jesse?" Angela asked him pointedly with a raised eyebrow.

"It's not like I want to here," McCree argued, "But if we're going to be running strike and fade operations, we're going to need someone with a lot of experience in that sort of thing."

"That's what concerns me," Angela said carefully, "I mean… you were once…"

"Aw hell Angela, not you too," McCree exclaimed indignantly, "Are you gonna rake me over the coals for once running with Reyes too?"

Angela looked away with a conflicted look causing her old comrade to stop too, "I'm sorry Jesse. But you have to understand…"

"Naw, I get it. I made some mistakes before… a whole lot of em, and I'm still gonna have to pay for it, right?" McCree grumbled.

"Actually, Angela is right to be wary of Blackwatch," Winston said grimly, "I have reason to believe that Reyes might still be alive and operating under a different alias."

The others sat and listened as Winston recounted the attack on Watchpoint Gibraltar by operatives of the terrorist cell called Talon. Leading the assault was a shadowy supervillain by the name of Reaper whom Winston barely fended off.

"It's because of him that I activated the recall," the gorilla explained, "I'm not sure yet if this Reaper guy is in fact Reyes, but if he and his Talon organization are on the rise, then something has to be done about it. There's enough conflict going on with the growing threat of another Omnic crisis."

Everyone fell silent again before Angela spoke, "If Overwatch is going to have to go back into action, then its operatives and innocent civilians will come into harms way. I can't ignore their suffering. I won't."

"Cheers to that. Count me in too," Lena added with an enthusiastic fist pump. She turned to McCree, "How about you cowboy?"

McCree looked slowly to Winston and Angela before putting his cigar away and stalking off toward the living quarters, "If I'm gonna have to earn my keep, then I might as well start making myself useful and cleaning the old joint up."

* * *

Meanwhile, in the arid deserts of central Mexico, a heavily armed gang of brigands returned to a secret underground cavern which they used as their lair. The outlaws were dressed in blood red cloaks with skull masks topped with fearsome horns. As they filed into their hideout, they gave joyous whoops and cheers as they dropped several large sacks full of money from their recent armed bank heist. To any common citizen in the region, they would have been able to easily identify them as "Los Diablos" one of the most violent and ruthless gangs terrorizing the countryside. What they didn't know was the dark history of the gang or what it had originally evolved from over the course of five years.

As the youngest of the bandits tossed the last sack of cash in the corner, the leader of the gang removed his disguise and gave a disapproving scowl. Javier Santiago was a muscular Hispanic man in his late thirties with short black hair and even darker eyes. He bore an old scar across his face which marred his otherwise handsome features and he narrowed his gaze on some of the younger members of the bandits, "That last part of the heist was sloppy."

One of the other outlaws shrugged and took a big celebratory swig of tequila from a bottle they had stored, "So we had to shoot a few people to get clear of the scene. We still got the money didn't we?"

Santiago's eyes flared and he quickly drew a pistol. Just like lightning, he fired the gun and the bullet shattered the bottle spraying liquor everywhere, "You wound up having to kill people because you didn't follow my orders. You follow my instructions exactly or next time, that bullet will shatter your skull instead. You got that?"

The other Diablos stood frozen in silence before nodding slowly and continuing with a more subdued celebration. As Santiago sat down to rest and ponder the gang's next move, a shadowy mist quickly swept into the cave. The other Diablos jumped in surprise and Santiago raised his eyes just as a grim malevolent figure materialized from the smoke. A tall powerful man dressed in flowing black robes and a skull mask strode forward leaving the bandits in a state of terrified awe.

The Talon operative known to many only as Reaper approached with a menacing air, "Los Diablos. I hope I'm not interrupting."

The gang leader sat back and regarded the super-powered terrorist with cool disinterest, "No Senor. They were just going to start thinking of how to do better on their next job."

"Good," Reaper replied, "Because I need you and your men to be ready for a special assignment."

Santiago's muscles tightened, "Oh? What sort of job? Is there a big payout?"

Reaper nodded his head, "I will make sure Los Diablos are compensated generously. I've never done you wrong before."

The gang leader let out a breath, "All right. What do you need us to do?"

The black robed terrorist turned and began to idly pace the cavern, "I need your group to go back to its roots... of hijacking and running high grade weapons. I need you to do the same things you practiced when you used to be the Deadlock Gang."

Santiago crossed his arms with a bored yawn, "That doesn't sound too hard. What are we talking here? Military grade weapons? High yield explosives?"

"No. Nanobots," Reaper answered as he turned to face the outlaw gang, "The Talon organization intends to steal special nanobot technology that the UN government is preparing to weaponize against the Omnics. Before we do that, we need the access codes to the specialized control canister filled with the bots."

Santiago scratched his chin and thought it through, "That sounds a little more involved than the jobs we normally pulled. What if we were to decline?"

Reaper laughed for a long moment before swiftly pulling one of his shotguns and aiming it directly at Santiago's head, "You are in no position to refuse me. I was the one who freed you Deadlocks from prison after Overwatch fell. I was the one who gave you special training and weapons so that you could carve out your little territory here. Unless you want Talon to take all that back from you, you wouldn't be wise to refuse our requests."

The other Diablos looked to each other and then to Reaper wondering if they would be able to draw their weapons in time to fire at the malevolent supervillain. Santiago calmly raised his hands and gestured for everyone to settle down before nodding, "You made your point amigo. Los Diablos are in your debt and will help in your plan."

Reaper swiftly twirled his weapon and tucked it away with a nod, "Excellent. We will be in contact soon to give you the details of the plan."

With that, Reaper became a black smoky cloud and rapidly swept out of the cave while his sinister laughter echoed along the dark walls of the forbidding cave.


	2. Unforgiven

The next day, Jesse McCree busied himself with helping to clean up the previously abandoned base. Much to his chagrin, he had found old banana peels lying about every so often from Winston's time alone manning the Watchpoint. He couldn't really blame the gorilla. If he was the only one living there for some time, he might have been just as messy too. After clearing out one of the dusty living quarters, he made his way to the infirmary of the Watchpoint carrying a few small boxes of supplies.

When he walked inside the medical ward, he found Angela at work in a side room reorganizing all the equipment and supplies to her preferences. When she stepped out to the infirmary's main room holding a clipboard, she stopped and gave a short surprised gasp, "Jesse! You startled me. I wasn't expecting to see you here."

McCree set down the cargo on a nearby table and tipped his hat slightly, "Well, I rounded up a few extra supplies while I was cleaning and just thought you could use some."

The doctor gave an appreciative smile and walked over to a workstation that was still in relative disarray, "That's very thoughtful of you. Thank you."

She moved some rolls of bandages aside and placed them in some storage boxes, "It's funny. Ever since I got back, I've been so busy cleaning this place up. I guess I've lost track of time today."

"Oh, that's okay. I always know what time it is," McCree chuckled softly while taking a wide gunfighter stance and gesturing to the holster at his waist, "It's hiiiigh nooon."

Angela rolled her eyes and gave a light laugh, "Oh Jesse, don't tell me you still keep using that silly old catchphrase after all this time."

The gunslinger shrugged and ambled over to idly poke around the infirmary cabinets, "Old habits die hard I guess. That's why we're here, right?"

He paused and fiddled with a microscope on the table, "Honestly, I'm kinda surprised you showed. Here I figured you probably moved on to bigger better things. Maybe you were some chief doctor at a large hospital back home. Probably got married and had a few kids..."

Angela smiled gently and shook her head, "No. I'm afraid not. Going back to such a safe and sterile environment just didn't feel right so I've been traveling in a Doctors without Borders program so that I can still help others."

McCree smiled and nodded quietly, "Still as good and selfless as I remember ya."

The doctor crossed her arms and pointed to McCree's own right hand and the absence of a wedding ring, "I see you haven't settled down either. Have you been traveling too?"

"I guess you could say that," McCree sighed as he turned back to his old colleague, "Ever since we left Overwatch, I've just been making my way in the world... wandrin' and tryin' to do right by others in my own way. Sides, I'm not so sure I'd have a lot to offer any woman in terms of settlin'... especially with this."

He raised his bionic left arm which he had lost in the bomb attack and climactic final battle that had torn Overwatch asunder. Angela came over and placed her hands on his bionic wrist, "Now Jesse, that's not true. I was the one who helped fix you and give you this arm, remember? It can't be all that bad."

"No... I suppose not," he smiled as they parted. He awkwardly reached for a cigar from his waist pouch and placed it in his mouth.

She gave a huff and quickly plucked the cigar from his mouth, "And another thing Jesse McCree! How many times have I told you to kick that terrible habit of yours?"

He laughed and gave another shrug, "Well what can I say? I still enjoy stirrin' you up. I've missed you Angela."

He said that last part a little too boldly and stopped as she blinked in surprise before looking away sheepishly. She handed the cigar back to him and walked back over to the table, "I... I've missed you too Jesse. If I can be honest, I was a little disappointed you didn't keep in touch when we left Overwatch five years ago. I was hoping to hear from you... maybe a call, or a letter..."

He looked away and hid his eyes under the brim of his hat, "I'm sorry Angela. After Overwatch fell... well, I think all of us were all kinds of messed up."

Angela nodded and conceded the point, "I suppose you're right. With the split, none of us knew exactly where we stood with each other for a long time."

"And what about now?" McCree asked curiously looking to his old friend and comrade, "Where do we stand?"

That was a pretty loaded question. Was he referring to their allegiance to Overwatch, or perhaps something more personal... something they hadn't dealt with in several years. Angela returned his gaze and gave a hesitant sigh before turning back to her work, "It's complicated Jesse... maybe even more now."

McCree maintained a stoic look and nodded slowly hoping not to show too much disappointment. He cleared his throat and turned to go. He gave a slight tip of his hat, "Well... best I be movin' on then. Doc."

Just as he turned to depart the lab, one of the nearby consoles flickered to life with Winston's face on the screen, "McCree! Dr. Ziegler! Come quickly! We have trouble! It seems Talon is up to no good again."

The two old companions exchanged a look and set aside their conflicted feelings before heading out of the infirmary together. If this terrorist named Reaper was going to commit some sort of crime, then Overwatch was going to respond in kind.

* * *

Meanwhile, the villainous Reaper lurked in the woods just outside of some castle grounds in Liepzig, Germany. The old ruins of the castle had been rebuilt and converted into a secluded science lab where the UN government conducted top secret research projects. Due to the looming Omnic threat, much of the resources had been geared more toward weapons development of late and that's exactly where the Talon operative intended to strike. Joining the sinister figure was a squad of armed Talon agents along with the former members of the Deadlock Gang rechristened Los Diablos.

Reaper turned his skull faced visage on his followers and gave a quiet nod, "Remember the plan. Our objective is to capture Dr. Heinrich Kohler. He will be the only one who knows where the nanobots are being kept and he will have the access codes for them."

The other terrorists signaled their understanding and followed behind Reaper as he took on his black gaseous form and swept across the castle grounds. A few armed security guards were standing watch, but doing so very poorly before they were overwhelmed by Reaper's rapid onslaught. They were engulfed in the dark cloud and silently taken down while the other terrorists hurried behind Reaper and began to infiltrate the complex. Despite the failure of the perimeter guards, other sensors picked up the presence of intruders and transmitted a silent alarm, one of which Overwatch had picked up.

Once he had made his way into the castle lab's inner courtyards, Reaper growled as he noticed several security protocols being activated in the research facility and he stopped to reorganize his forces. He gestured for the Talon agents to fan out and hold positions, "Hold the perimeter and keep watch. Diablos, you're with me. We're going after Dr. Kohler."

They breached the heavy doors of the complex in the inner courtyard and began to ascend the main keep when a flash of light lit up the area just outside the castle. It had been from a teleporter beam and to the shock of the Talon agents, they saw that it was Overwatch. Four agents who were in their full battle dress split up and prepared to make their move on the defended area. From the rear rank, Winston hefted his particle cannon and began to charge it while Dr. Angela (Mercy) Ziegler spread her wings and took to the air. From the flanks, McCree and Lena (Tracer) Oxton spread out and led the charge.

McCree pulled his Peacekeeper revolver and cocked the gun while rushing forward, "Tracer, watch those varmits on top of the wall."

On their team's radio comm, they could hear Mercy's voice from the rear, "Initiate the attack in five, four, three, two, one..."

Winston opened fire on the castle gate while McCree fired off a hail of shots at the Talon guards. While they were distracted and trying to return fire with their own assault weapons, Tracer time-shifted and zipped clear to leap to the top of the castle gates. She pulled her pulse pistols and unloaded on the Talon gunmen standing there in shock before they fell to her attack. With the high ground secure, Mercy flew safely by overhead while Winston kept the enemy on the ground pinned down.

The strategy worked as McCree closed and flanked the remaining gunmen barring their path. He pulled a flashbang grenade and tossed it into the Talon formation stunning them all at once before he swiftly reloaded his pistol and fanned the hammer to spray a storm of lead on the foes. In a heartbeat, all the Talon gunmen who were guarding the front gate crumpled under the gunman's blistering attack.

He twirled his pistol and reloaded a fresh moon clip while giving a satisfied grin, "Set 'em up, knock 'em down!"

Once they secured the gate, Winston waved McCree forward, "Keep going! Mercy and I will hold the courtyard!"

Tracer gave a salute and zipped up to a higher perch, "I'll mop up along the perimeter luv. Be back in a wink!"

McCree nodded and hurried forward seeing the open door to the castle keep. He quickly sprinted up the stone stairwells in pursuit of the villains while his teammates took care of the rest of the Talon gunmen lurking around the outer walls of the castle research facility.

* * *

Not too far ahead near the top of the tower, Reaper and the Diablos already broke into the central lab shooting several guards and scientists who dared stand in their way. As chaos reigned and several other scientists scrambled away in terror, an older German scientist with long gray hair and a white lab coat cowered in the corner under a table. Reaper swiftly hurled the table aside smashing equipment before roughly gripping the man and hauling him to his feet, "Dr. Kohler, I presume?"

The older man stammered in terror at the skull faced terrorist, "I... who... what do you want with me?"

"You have something I want," Reaper snarled as he tightened his grip and pulled a gun on the doctor, "Stay quiet and do what I say. If you cooperate, I might let you live."

Dr. Kohler trembled and gave a weak nod before Reaper tossed the man to some of the Diablos, "Get out of here! Take him to the rendevous point!"

The former Deadlocks smashed open the windows of the lab and clipped rappel lines before making their escape down the far side of the keep with the terrified doctor. Reaper dematerialized and began to slip away leaving Javier Santiago, the leader of the Diablos at the window. He was to be the last one to make his escape when the lab doors burst open and he heard a click from behind followed by a familiar voice, "All right dirt bag... reach for the sky."

Santiago froze and raised his arms slowly while McCree advanced into the lab carefully. "Now turn around nice and slow."

Santiago smiled and gave a sardonic laugh, "Well I'll be damned. This must be some kind of cosmic joke. Jesse McCree. Who thought we'd run into each other like this again?"

McCree froze in shock as he faced down one of his old familiar gang members he had run with before. "Javier... Javier Santiago."

The former Deadlock gangster laughed again and took a few steps forward, "Did you miss me gringo? I can't say the same toward you."

"Don't you take another step you slippery viper," McCree snarled as he leveled his pistol threateningly. "How did you get out of prison?"

"The same way you did," Santiago smiled, "We had a mutual friend spring us from behind bars."

McCree frowned in confusion, "What? Your lips are movin' but I ain't hearin' any sense. Reyes couldn't have sprung you. He's dead."

"Not as dead as you might think McCree," Santiago retorted, "He's going to make us very rich men."

"That what this is all about?" McCree asked gesturing to the ruined lab, "What are you playin' at here Javi? What are you after?"

The Diablo leader shook his head with a smile, "Why don't you come home and join us Jesse? I'll tell you all about it... unless you're still content to run around pretending to be the world's policeman."

"No dice Santiago. You're comin' with me," McCree replied, "I'm takin' you in dead or alive."

"Have it your way," Javier shouted as he pulled a gun from under his own red cloak to try and beat McCree to the draw.

The Overwatch gunslinger was too fast and fired three shots in rapid succession. The first knocked the gun from Santiago's hand while the other two shots hit the gangster in the thigh and the shoulder. Santiago yelped and collapsed to the ground writhing in pain.

"I tried bein' reasonable amigo," McCree sighed as he stepped closer and kept his gun trained on the wounded Santiago.

Before he could bend down and restrain his former colleague, McCree stopped and froze as a dark cloud of mist rapidly spread up from the window and slammed into him. The smog hit him like a ton of bricks and threw him to the ground. He could feel some half corporeal form within grappling him and wrestling for control as they rolled along the floor of the lab. As McCree rolled free of the entity, he regained his footing and leveled his gun at the shadowy figure. As it moved toward him, he fired the last three rounds in his chamber but the bullets passed right through the smokey foe.

The black figure tackled him again and disarmed him. The enemy slammed McCree hard against a nearby lab table, pinning him roughly by the neck with an iron grip. The Talon operative rematerialized and McCree could see it was a black robed figure with a skull mask. "Jesse McCree... you haven't changed a bit."

"Reaper?" McCree choked out as he struggled back, "Or should I call you Gabriel?"

Reaper let up a moment, just long enough for McCree to break the grapple and land a crushing left hook with his bionic arm. Reaper rolled backward and snarled in pain from the blow as McCree leaned over the table for support.

"You've decided to betray me a second time Jesse? You're still standing beside Overwatch? There's nothing for you there."

McCree caught his breath and gasped, "I ain't too sure about that. Best let me decide for myself cause you sure as hell made your own decision. What's happened to you Gabriel? What kind of monster have you become?"

Reaper simply rubbed his chin where McCree had punched him and laughed maniacally.

McCree quickly glanced down and saw his pistol laying on the floor nearby. He made an abrupt diving roll and swiped it but before he could reload, Reaper pulled his own gun from his cloak and fired a shotgun burst which clipped McCree in his chest armor and his bionic arm. The gunslinger toppled back in pain and collapsed to the floor as Reaper loomed over him with his smoking weapon, "Don't be a fool Jesse. I came here and got what I needed. I know what I want and I'm going to take it. You'd better decide what it is you want too... and soon."

At that moment, the door burst open and Winston barged in followed by Tracer close behind. From the window, Mercy swooped in and fired a few shots from her own pistol to ward Reaper off but Gabriel Reyes had already went incorporeal and jetted away in his cloud of black smoke. His malevolent laughter echoed in the room as he departed before Mercy touched down and hurried to the side of the injured McCree.

"Jesse! Are you okay?"

"I've had worse," the gunfighter grunted while trying to rise. He failed and fell back to the ground in pain.

Mercy placed a gentle hand over his brow, "Lie still now. You're hurt. I'll treat your injuries."

While McCree closed his eyes and let Angela work her medical magic, he gave one last tired look to where Tracer and Winston were cuffing Santiago. Seeing everything was in order, he decided now was a good time to pass out.


	3. Change of Heart

When McCree finally opened his eyes again, he found himself back in the infirmary of Watchpoint Gibraltar. As his eyes focused from the lights of the ceiling, he could make out the form of Angela Ziegler hovering over his bedside applying some dressings to the wound in his shoulder. He grunted and shifted his weight to sit up slightly while making a joke through gritted teeth, "Thought I died and went to heaven there for a moment. All I could see was bright light and a beautiful angel over me."

Angela did her best to suppress a small smile, "When I'm done with your shoulder, perhaps you should get your head examined next. Unless the painkillers at at work, you're just talking crazy."

McCree shrugged and smiled, "Well, am I going to live Doc?"

"The prognosis is good," Angela replied finishing with the bandage, "Take two asprin and call me in the morning."

"Funny."

The doors to the infirmary opened as Winston and Lena entered to check up on their comrade. Lena hurried over to examine McCree's shoulder dressing between his collar and his bionic left arm. "Poor Jesse. You feeling all right love?"

"I'll be fine kiddo, but thanks for the concern," McCree said as Angela turned to Winston.

"Jesse was lucky. His flak armor and bionic arm took the brunt of the shot but I still had to remove some shrapnel that got through. With some rest and treatment, he should be fine in another day or so."

Winston nodded, "Glad to hear it. Jesse, you had been taking on Reaper when we arrived in the lab. I'd like you to tell us everything you heard in your battle."

McCree related his run in with the new avatar of Gabriel Reyes as well as the revelation that McCree's old comrades in the Deadlock Gang were involved in the abduction of Dr. Kohler.

The burly gorilla scratched his chin in deep thought before adjusting his glasses, "This is not good. Putting aside the fact that Reyes has returned for certain, the rest of the story falls in line with what little we got out of our prisoner… the one I assume to be Javier Santiago?"

"Where is he?" McCree demanded trying to get up from the bed quickly.

Lena held him down, "He's in one of our base's confinement cells. After the battle, we took him with us and Dr. Ziegler worked to patch him up too."

McCree protested a little, "If you let me speak to him alone, maybe I can get him to open up and talk. He can tell us what's going on."

"I don't think that's a good idea right now," Winston answered, "If Reaper has managed to influence the old Deadlocks into serving him, there's no telling what kind of leverage Santaigo might exert on you too."

"Are you serious?" McCree exclaimed indignantly, "For God's sake, I shot the man and kept him from getting away. You still don't trust me?"

"Blackwatch never accomplished their goals in a straightforward way," Winston said flatly, "All I'm saying is that we can't take that risk right now."

"Unbelievable," McCree growled as he raised the bedstand and reclined back to rest some more.

Winston shook his head and headed out of the room, "In the mean time, I'm going to do some work to try and figure out what this last Talon raid was all about. Lena, would you please come and help me?"

Lena gave McCree an apologetic look and followed the gorilla out of the room. The gunslinger exhaled another breath and stewed for a minute while Angela tidied up her own workstation. She raised her eyes sympathetically, "Don't be too upset Jesse. Winston means well. Without Jack here, you know he's just looking out for everyone's safety right now."

"I understand you Angela, but it's a little hard when you're the one still being treated like a criminal."

Angela sighed and continued to work, "I know you've gotten used to the whole vigilante thing, but you're not on your own anymore Jesse. You're back on a team and you'll have to accept the troubles that come with it."

"And what about you Angela? Are you glad the team is coming back together? Even back then, you were always half hearted about supporting Overwatch."

Angela chewed her lip and stuffed her hands in her white labcoat, "In some ways. I still believe in the mission of Overwatch and the things it stands for… I'm just a little less sure about the way that it goes about doing it."

She reached into her pocket and plucked a photo she had recovered. It had been taken several years ago when they were all younger. In it were several members of their old team laughing and smiling together. "Even so, things seemed a lot simpler then, didn't they?"

She handed the photo to McCree and he looked at it wistfully, "Yeah… I guess so. I remember when Reyes freed me from prison and took me under his wing, I still felt like a little bit of an outcast. But you were one of the first ones to welcome me and accept me in to the team. I never got a chance to tell you, but it meant a lot to me at the time."

Angela sat down beside him and placed a grateful hand on his good shoulder. They quietly looked at the photo of their younger happier selves, "We were both just kids. Maybe I was a little too naïve and trusting too. In a way, we have things to be regretful for now."

"There are some things I'm regretful for not doing too," McCree admitted quietly as he placed a hand over Angela's, "I know I liked to flirt a lot with you back then. You would always laugh and we'd just carry on as friends like we always did, but when we left Overwatch… well, part of me missed that. After coming back here and seeing you again…"

"Jesse… please. Let me stop you right there," Angela said while standing up with a troubled look and taking a few steps away from him, "I know what you're going to say. That was a long time ago. Things changed. We changed."

"Maybe not some things," McCree shrugged, "I meant what I said earlier today about missing you Angela. If I know you well enough, I'd say you've felt the same way."

Angela turned and wrung her hands with a conflicted expression, "Jesse… I… I'd be lying if I said I didn't have some feelings for you back then."

"Is that part of the reason why you still remained single up to now?" McCree asked standing up to face her, "What was stopping you before? Don't tell me it was because of my ties to Blackwatch…"

Angela didn't answer but glanced aside quietly.

McCree winced as he felt that sting. It was in that moment, he wished he never signed on with Reyes and got tangled up in his cabal, the same one that undermined Overwatch and likely served as part of his terrorist organization of Talon now. He kept his features taut, "I see… I reckon that's what's still troubling you even now?"

"I'm sorry Jesse. It doesn't make me feel any better and I hate sounding like I'm making excuses. I know you're a good man but…"

"But you're not sure you can fully trust me yet," McCree huffed as he threw on his shirt along with his hat and poncho, "Yeah… that seems to be the common game goin' on around here."

"Jesse wait… I'm sorry," Angela said reaching out to try and stop him but he raised a hand to halt her.

"That's all right Doc. You spoke your peace and shot straight with me. I can't fault you for it," McCree said flatly, "Thank ya kindly for patching me up. Best I get out of your hair. You have enough to worry about without me complicatin' things."

Angela watched silently as he left the infirmary and could only shake her head with an unhappy sigh.

* * *

The next day, McCree made his way to the basement levels of the Watchpoint where the confinement cells were located. Because the base was still largely uninhabited there was an eerie stillness and quietness about the place. The gunslinger made his way to the holding cells where he found his old comrade and gang-member Javier Santiago confined behind a forcefield. As he approached, he saw Javier sitting up against the wall of the cell playing a game of solitaire with some playing cards. The gangster looked up slowly and gave a sardonic smile, "Well… it's about time you showed up. I was starting to think Reyes put you down for good. Darn."

"I didn't come for a friendly social call," McCree answered sternly, "Just came to see if you were still alive after I gunned your sorry ass down."

A flash of hatred flashed on Santiago's face before he calmed himself down, "I'm doing better. Your blonde lady friend fixed me up really nice. Maybe if I'm good she'll be willing to give me full physical examination next time."

"Shut yer mouth," McCree snapped as he slapped a nearby bulkhead with his bionic arm.

"Touched a nerve? Or maybe you've already staked a claim with the doctor?"

McCree ignored the insults and walked up to the cell with a scowl, "You seem awfully smug for being locked back up where you belong."

"This is nothing. I've already spent plenty of time in prison before," Santiago said flipping a few cards, "Which is more than I can say for you compadre."

"Then do us both a favor and make it easier on yourself. What was Reaper after in Germany?" McCree demanded.

Santiago ignored him and kept flipping cards, "You really think I'm going to tell you McCree? Hell, you've got some real stones to even be asking after all this time… Mr. High and Mighty Overwatch agent."

McCree kept a hard gaze on his old comrade, "You haven't changed a bit Javi. You're still completely deluded."

"But not deluded enough to sell out my old gang… my family. I'm not a traitor like you Jesse," the gangster snorted as he continued his game. "Look around you McCree. Times are changing. Overwatch is a shadow of its old self. You're the one living in the past, but Reyes… he's the one looking toward the future. He's the one who offered the rest of us old Deadlocks a new lease on life."

"A life of violent crime?" McCree asked skeptically.

"Hey, to each their own," Santiago smiled as he began shuffling the cards for a new game, "It beats wandering around the desert like you've been… living with all that guilt and trying to make some kind of amends. What sort life is that? Now you're still running with outlaws here, just different kinds."

McCree stopped and pondered the statement. Javier did have a point there. The gangster dealt some more cards, "Reaper still seems to think there's some hope for you."

"Reaper is a liar," McCree said narrowing his eyes, "You really think he cares about you or any of the other old Deadlocks?"

"Who's the liar McCree?" Santiago challenged him, "What makes you think you aren't already lying to yourself? Do you really believe you can do any good here? Are you really going to martyr yourself for Overwatch, a group of self righteous outlaws? Do you really think they care that much about you either? You and I are just both means to an end Jesse. I'm just the one willing to accept reality as it is."

McCree remained silent and thought over the outlaw's words. He couldn't deny there was some truth to them as well as some cold hard pragmatism. Was that what he had been lacking recently? Maybe spending his time trying to live up to the ideals of Overwatch had indeed blinded him and kept him from seeing reality as it really was. When he was on his own, McCree had the luxury of acting on his gut and keeping an objective approach toward situations. Now that he was back with Overwatch, he couldn't be so sure. Was that what Angela had been talking about? About accepting the challenges of working with a team again?

As he thought of Angela, he felt another pang in his heart. Maybe Santiago was right. Was he wasting his time with Overwatch? He had come back to Watchpoint Gibraltar hoping to find answers and a purpose, but all he had gotten was rejection and mistrust from most of his former teammates. He knew Reyes was a bad guy, but there was a sort of welcome simplicity to going back to his old life. Kill or be killed. Take what you want, and don't let anyone stand in your way. He thought long and hard and he made a decision.

McCree stood silently for a long minute before reaching for the containment cell's control panel. He quickly keyed in a few codes and lowered the forcefield. Santiago dropped his cards and looked up in startled surprise, "What are you…"

"Get up," McCree interrupted as he reached down and brusquely hauled the gangster back up to his feet. "We're getting out of here."

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the gangster spluttered.

McCree gave him a shove out of the cell, "I owed you one. Now we're even. Lay low for now. You and I are gonna go pay Reaper a visit, but first I'm gonna need your help with something."

"What are you planning to do?" Santiago asked hesitantly.

"I'm gonna take care of some unfinished business."

* * *

Later on as early evening set in, Dr. Angela Zielger sat down in one of the rec rooms of the base. She had dressed down to some old standard issue Overwatch workout clothes, some sweatpants and a blue tank top. She opened the window shades to let in the light and she sat on a lounge chair admiring the calming view of the sunset over the ocean. Atop a small end table in the lounge, she had recovered an old bottle of brandy from storage and poured herself some in a small glass. After the events of the last few days, she needed to take a little time out to decompress and refocus her mind. The operation of the undermanned Overwatch station weighed heavy on her mind as well as the recent activities of the Talon terrorists. The fact that Gabriel Reyes had returned and captured a distinguished scientist did not bode well. She could only trust that the work which Winston and Lena were doing would turn up some results soon.

In the mean time, her thoughts drifted to her talk with McCree earlier. It had been emotionally exhilarating and draining at the same time. A large weight still hung heavy on her mind as she wondered what he was going through right now. He had basically just come out and said the things they had been dancing around for years… about mutual feelings between teammates who had become friends, and inwardly desired to be something more. Back then, they could make excuses for not addressing that issue. They could put their duties to Overwatch first and remain in that safe in-between state. And they did… until everything fell apart.

Maybe Jesse was right about some things. Maybe she had unconsciously avoided getting emotionally involved with anyone else after the fall of Overwatch because there was still part of her that longed for him. Maybe that feeling was still there now. Even if they weren't bound by the formal rules and regulations of Overwatch anymore, she still couldn't dismiss her misgivings about his involvement with the faction that ruined Overwatch. Jesse McCree had been an outlaw. He had been a former protégé of the modern terrorist Reaper, and he had still carried on with his violent solitary life. Whether that was more of a self imposed punishment she couldn't be sure, but it was a life she wanted to leave behind.

As she watched the sun setting, she couldn't help but worry that she didn't hurt her friend too badly when she had rebuffed his confession earlier that day. She was surprised when she heard the door open and heard a familiar voice.

"Self medicating again, I see?"

Angela turned around, "Jesse? I… what are you doing here? I didn't expect to see you."

He approached slowly and removed his hat with a sheepish expression, "Yeah… well, I wanted to come by and talk to you again. I wanted to apologize for earlier."

Angela stood up to meet him, "Jesse… you really don't have to. It's fine. Really."

He shook his head, "Naw, I was out of line. I was just a little upset at the moment. Maybe chalk it up the pain meds making me think a little crazy?"

Angela smiled and reached to pour him a glass of brandy, "I suppose I'm in no position to judge at the moment. Join me?"

"I suppose I got some time for a drink," he nodded as he joined her at the window. As she handed him a glass, she noted a startling change.

"You shaved."

"I did," he said with a nod, "I figured if I'm going to have to convince you all I'm one of the good guys, I'd best start looking a little more like a hero."

Angela laughed, "Sorry, I couldn't help but remember when you were clean shaven back then too. I always thought you looked better that way. A little more handsome too."

McCree smiled as he took a sip of the brandy and gazed out the windows, "You know, I spent some time thinking about what you said earlier and realized that you were right about some things... about things changing. Whatever change we're going to have to deal with right now, I guess I just wanted to make sure one thing didn't change."

"Oh? What's that?"

McCree finished his drink and looked her, "That we're still friends. That maybe in time, you can forgive this old cowboy and learn to trust me."

Angela gave a warm smile and nodded as the two old teammates embraced each other, "Of course. I think that's a good place to start over."

McCree smiled and let her go before taking their glasses, "Good. Let me refill our glasses and we'll toast to it."

While Angela wasn't looking, McCree swiftly spiked her glass with a powerful liquid sedative he stole from the infirmary. They took their glasses and clinked them together. Angela announced, "To a new beginning."

After taking a sip of the drink, she swayed as she felt her head get foggy. Before she could fall, McCree caught her and lifted her up with a smirk, "You have no idea darlin'."

As he turned to leave the room, Javier Santiago opened the door and looked around quickly, "Are you ready? Let's get going!"

Jesse McCree took one last look out the window before heading out the door quietly carrying Angela. If he was going to return and face Reyes, there was no way he was going to do so empty handed. What better way to get back into Reaper's good graces than to bring Talon one of their enemies too?


	4. The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

A cool breeze blew over the Swiss Alps as Gabriel Reyes made his way up the rocky mountain trail followed by a pack of Talon operatives and the old Deadlock gang. Despite having lost their leader, the other gangsters seemed content to push around the scientist hostage that they kept on a short leash. Dr. Heinrich Kohler gasped tiredly and fell to his knees before two of the former Deadlocks hauled him to his feet and continued to drag him along. As they walked, Reaper strode forward effortlessly and turned a curious eye toward the exhausted scientist. "We're almost there. Have you had enough yet Doctor? Are you going to give me the access codes now?"

The older man panted and slumped his head, "Please… I'll do anything you want. Just let me go."

"Only after you open the necessary locks to the nanobots," Reaper said, "The UN storage facility should be just over that ridge. Once we're in, you will give me access to the project."

"Why are you doing this?" Kohler pleaded, "Leave the nanobots. Do you want the Omnics to win?"

Reaper shook his head, "Of course not. But if humanity is going to survive and become stronger, it has to know strife and difficulty."

"Well now, I don't remember you preachin' those lines before," McCree said as he walked up a nearby path to join the terrorists. Walking alongside him was Javier Santiago and a restrained Angela Ziegler. She had been gagged and gave some angry muffled shouts as McCree kept a firm grip on her arm to keep her from escaping.

Reaper and all his operatives whirled around and aimed their weapons at the newcomers before McCree raised his free hand, "Whoah, hold your horses now Undertaker. I ain't here for a fight."

Reaper glanced to Santiago who stepped forward nervously and rejoined his fellow gang members, "It's true. McCree freed me and came looking for you."

"What's your angle Jesse?"

The gunslinger shrugged nonchalantly, "I done some thinkin' Reyes. Figured you were right when you told me to make a choice. Overwatch hadn't been too keen on takin' me back, ain't that right Angela? Somethin' bout trust issues?"

"You brought some help?" Reaper asked curiously.

"A prisoner for Talon," McCree corrected him, "More like a show of good will here. I give you back Santiago and hand over Mercy. You give me a shot at joining a winning team again."

"If I agree, how do I know this isn't some trick?" Reaper asked.

"You don't," McCree answered, "And I could say the same to you. Come on Reyes. We were both in Blackwatch. Hell, you were the one who mentored me. Right now, the only thing we can trust is the fact we can't trust each other. Isn't that right?"

Reaper snorted in amusement and tucked his weapon away before signalling for the others to stand down, "You help me get into that depot and we can talk later about your future in Talon."

McCree smiled and stepped forward keeping Angela as his hostage, "All right then. What are we waitin' for? Let's saddle up."

* * *

Back in Watchpoint Gibraltar, Lena and Winston were searching all over for their missing comrades. Winston wore a scowl as he checked the security camera footage for clues. When he came across the footage of the containment cells and the lounge, he couldn't believe his eyes. "What has McCree done? I knew it! He has turned on us!"

"Hold on now big guy. That can't be right," Lena said trying to calm him and make sense of the video, "I'm sure Jesse has a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this."

"He won't have much a chance to once I tear him limb from limb," Winston growled, "When I find him I'll..."

"You can find him," Lena interrupted as she worked the keyboard of the computers and pulled up a map, "Look here. Jesse's got an active tracking beacon on him and it says he's in Switzerland."

"That's not too far from the last run in with Reaper," Winston frowned, "But why would he..."

"Maybe Jesse wants us to find him," Lena said hopefully, "Maybe there's a plan going on and he's counting on us to follow it."

"You actually trust him on this?" Winston frowned in reluctance.

"He's our friend. We have to," Lena said while donning her goggles, "Come on. Let's go!"

* * *

Meanwhile, the secret UN depot was in calamity as Reaper and his allies attacked the place and overwhelmed the security there. They carved a swath of terror and destruction until they reached the heart of the complex and ascended a few floors. There they came upon a large central room which looked to be the size of a standard warehouse with large crates and barrels of supplies containing some of the most highly sensitive military and scientific equipment in the region.

The light of a large central skylight filtered down from above as the raiders crossed the floors to where a large container sat on a platform. Inside it were the deadly nanobots that Talon wanted to get a hold of and Reaper pried open the front of the metal storage unit. With that out of the way, a more secure container resembling a storage safe sat with a digital keypad.

"Dr. Kohler..." Reaper prompted him, "Do not make me wait."

The fearful scientist scurried over and began to key in the correct sequence of numbers to unlock the security measures. As the safe opened, several meal tubes slid open in layers allowing the raiders to get closer and closer to their final goal.

Angela watched in dread as the last security tube retracted exposing the container of deadly nanobots. As Dr. Kohler stepped away from the platform and cowered in fear, Reaper stepped forward with a malicious chuckle, "Yes! Finally!"

As they stood back and watched, Angela felt McCree's grip on her arm let up. To her surprise, he removed her gag and she suddenly felt him slip something into her hands. She looked to see a small retractable scalpel knife in her fingers and recognized it as one from her supply cabinet.

Was this supposed to be used to cut the cords binding her wrists? She looked up to McCree and saw him give her a small wink from the side. She didn't know what was going on, but she wasn't going to waste this opportunity either.

McCree quietly palmed his pistol from under his poncho and whispered to her, "I've always protected you in battle and never let harm come to you when we were younger, haven't I? You trusted me then?"

She blinked quietly and nodded as she began to subtly cut her bonds.

"I'm sorry Angela. I'll explain everything later, but I need you to trust me again. Trust me now. Can you do that?"

She swallowed and nodded before McCree stepped forward and brandished his weapon.

Reaper picked up the large canister of nanobots and held it up triumphantly but then jerked his hand back as the sound of gunshot split the air. A bright bolt from McCree's pistol struck the container and caused it to explode into a cloud of shrapnel. Reaper roared in fury and went incorporeal for a moment before swirling around and retaking his humanoid form. His eyes burned as he stood facing the gunslinger with the smoking pistol.

"You traitor! What do you think you're doing?" Reyes snarled in barely suppressed rage.

"Playing your own game against you Reaper," McCree laughed while keeping his weapon at the ready, "If everyone's going to treat me like I'm still Blackwatch, then I might as well act like it."

Reaper paused a moment and put it all together in his head with a nod, "I see. You faked your defection from Overwatch to find me again. You wanted to get close enough to strike at me yourself."

"Bingo," McCree smirked, "But you were never the primary target. If the UN can't have those nanobots, then I aimed to make sure you couldn't either."

Angela stared in shock while Reaper began to laugh toward the gunslinger, "I trained you well. That's why you were always my favorite student. It's too bad I'll have to kill you now."

"Hold up now pardner," McCree said as he put the stub of a cigar to his mouth and lit it with his free hand, "You really think I'd come here alone?"

As he lit up and took a drag, he revealed a tracking beacon he had worn under his poncho so that Tracer and Winston could track him down. "I reckon my teammates will be here any minute."

True to his word, the two other Overwatch agents teleported in outside and made their way into the complex. They didn't quite know what to expect but they were armed to the teeth. The gunslinger regarded Reaper calmly, "Your choice Reyes. Give up now or I'll give you a face full of lead."

Reaper growled and began to dematerialize. He turned to Santiago and the other Diablos, "Take care of McCree!"

Reaper immediately flew out of the room while the former Deadlocks began to circle around McCree like a pack of hungry wolves. Santiago put a hand on the pistol at his hip as if daring McCree to take on all his old gang members, "Now is not the time for heroics amigo. Now is the time that we finish things for good."

McCree took a quick glance toward Angela nearby and flicked away his cigar stub, "No. I'll tell you what time it is. It's high noon! Draw!"

Before any of the other Diablos could aim and snap off a shot, Jesse McCree fired a rapid volley of shots which instantly killed Santiago and the two men standing beside him. As the other gangsters opened fire, McCree rolled clear and reloaded his weapon in a seamless motion. As he regained his footing and twirled the pistol into a ready position, he tossed a flash bang grenade which stunned a few of the gunmen before McCree spun on his heel taking out several more foes with his gun.

While McCree dodged and engaged the remaining Diablos in a fierce firefight, Angela cut herself free and scooped up the uzi of a fallen gangster before grabbing the shaken Dr. Kohler with her other arm. She quickly pulled him away to safety in a far corner of the room where they took cover behind some large supply crates.

Amid another spray of automatic weapons fire, McCree dove for cover behind some metal storage containers. As the enemy bullets and laser fire chewed up the edges of the container, McCree glanced over and caught sight of a metal drum nearby. He flexed his bionic arm and grasped the drum before hurling it at his attackers. The Diablo gunmen stopped shooting and tumbled clear as McCree bounded over his own metal crate and took aim in midair at his exposed targets. With practiced deadeye aim, he fanned the hammer again and gunned down the last of the attackers.

He popped open the barrel and dropped the expended shell casings before calmly reloading one more time. He could hear a loud commotion coming from down the hall as Reaper retreated back into the room from the onslaught of Tracer and Winston. McCree turned face Reaper as the villain brandished both his shotguns and blew out a nearby door panel which shut the thick hatch leading into the room. It wouldn't keep Winston and Tracer out forever, but it would slow them down. As soon as Reaper turned his head, he heard the familiar clicking sound a revolver hammer being drawn back.

"End of the line Reyes. You're trapped like the rat you are," McCree said while holding his gun steady.

Reaper laughed in amusement, "After what happened last time, do you really think you can stop me all by yourself?"

"He's not alone," came another voice as Angela stepped out of cover and primed the uzi in her hands, "He's still got a real team behind him."

"Angela…" McCree exclaimed in awe as she walked forward to confront their mutual enemy.

Reaper only laughed harder, "Oh this is rich Angela. You really want to die with McCree? I'll give you your wish!"

He jetted around and fired his guns but Angela rolled clear and returned with short sprays of fire from her own weapon. Although she didn't have her Valkyrie suit to give her some extra mobility and flight, Angela still used her natural grace and athleticism to steer clear of harm. While Reaper swirled around her, McCree rushed forward and laid down a few covering shots to try and split his enemy's attention.

The two Overwatch teammates joined up and stood back to back protecting each other from Reaper's assault while the bulkhead doors to the chamber thundered and rattled under the other's attempts to break through.

As Angela sprayed the last of her clip at Reaper to pin him down, McCree fired a lucky shot which struck the villain in the forearm and caused him to drop one of his weapons. Reaper growled in pain and withdrew his wounded arm while loading his remaining gun. McCree took that moment to line up a perfect headshot while Reaper was vulnerable and pulled the trigger… except nothing happened. There was a hollow click and the gunslinger realized too late that his ammunition had been expended. In that moment, Reaper took back the initiative and began to spin around in a dark shadowy cloud firing his weapon in a sort of all out death blossom attack.

McCree dropped his gun and fell back to cover the unprotected Angela who was in range of the assault. As the storm of enemy fire came roaring at them, McCree tackled Angela to the ground and used his back to shield her. A few shots clipped McCree in the back and he felt hot shooting pain flare up before he hit the floor with Angela in his arms.

They skidded to a halt and McCree's hat fluttered to the ground as Reaper ended his attack and stepped forward to finish off his prey. He crushed the hat underfoot and loomed over the two younger Overwatch agents who had served with him once before. He cocked the shotgun in his hand and prepared to aim it directly at the wounded McCree and the frightened Angela on the ground. "You were once like a son to me McCree. You could have joined me."

"Yeah… well, people change Reyes," McCree grunted weakly, "I guess I got tired of wanderin' round the dark and realized I'm better off with an angel in the light."

"Then I'll make sure you see plenty of angels," Reaper growled as he leveled his gun for a finishing shot.

Reyes never managed to pull the trigger as a new combatant blasted through a side hatch into the main room. Everyone turned to see the intruder who wore a red, white, and blue jacket with a sinister visor over his face. The well built man with short white hair didn't say anything but raised a large pulse rifle and fired a concentrated bolt of plasma. The shot seared the air and hit Reaper dead on throwing the villain back hard along the floor. "I've finally found you Reaper!"

The black cloaked villain raised himself up off the ground and grunted in pain as his injuries began to pile up. He turned his head as the other bulkhead doors burst open and the other Overwatch agents rushed in. Seeing he was badly outnumbered, reaper decided to cut his losses and make an escape. He dematerialized into his shadowy black smoke and jetted away by smashing through one of the facility's skylights.

The mysterious mercenary soldier growled and fired a few more shots at the retreating Reaper before lowering his rifle and turning to face the Overwatch agents gathering nearby.

Tracer glanced over in concern as she saw McCree lying on the ground with Angela at his side. She had torn some strips of his red poncho to try and use them as rags to staunch the bleeding from his injuries. He grunted and tried to smile tiredly, "Angela… are you okay?"

She breathed heavily trying to stay calm as she worked to asses his wounds, "I'm fine. Just be quiet now Jesse. I'm going to make sure you make it back okay too."

Tracer turned to face the mysterious soldier with Winston and they tensed for a fight. The big gorilla growled, "Who are you? What do you want?"

The soldier regarded both of them coolly and raised a hand to put them at ease. He silently strode forward past them and came to kneel down by McCree. He planted a small canister on the ground which began to emit a gentle glow of energy. To Angela's surprise, she saw McCree's wounds begin to lessen and stabilize to a manageable state.

"He should be stable enough for a safe evac," the old soldier said in a low gravelly voice.

"I… thank you," Angela nodded in awe as her other teammates gathered around. "Who are you? Why are you helping us?"

The soldier rose slowly to his feet and looked up to the shattered skylight above, "It seemed like the right thing to do. As for my name… that's not important right now, but you can call me a friend."

Angela looked to her other teammates, "Jesse stopped Reyes from getting the nanobots here. He set all this up to try and trap Reaper."

Winston regarded his downed comrade and then their new ally before giving a wary nod, "Let's head back to Gibraltar and sort all of this out there. Come on."

* * *

The next morning, Jesse McCree awoke to the gentle feeling of a razor on his cheek. He cracked his eyes opened and groaned to see Angela Zielgler sitting at his bedside, wiping away at the last of the shaving cream from his face. She stopped to look at him and smiled gently, "Well… good morning. I didn't think you'd be out this long."

"It's been a rough week," he said while orienting himself. He was back in the infirmary of Watchpoint Gibraltar and lying propped up on a hospital bed. His whole body was sore and he could feel his entire back and sides were all wrapped up with dressings.

"When Reyes went loco with his guns, I thought I was a goner back there."

Angela shook her head and patted his cheek softly, "You should know by now Jesse. Heroes never die… at least not while I'm around."

She stopped and retracted her hand slightly, "In fact, if it wasn't for you yesterday, I might not be around. I… thank you for helping to save me Jesse."

He took her hand and sat smiling while giving a small nod, "And thank you for trusting me too Doc."

Angela squeezed his hand back before standing up and walking over to her workstation. She took off her labcoat and tied her hair back up, "You know… while you were passed out, you had really made me upset Jesse. You took some incredible risks back there and you almost lost your life. Do you know how worried that made me?"

McCree glanced away shamefaced, "I'm sorry Angela. I didn't mean to…."

"That's not all," she interrupted him while walking back over and sitting down beside him, "Do you know what made me the most upset? The fact that I ever doubted your loyalty to Overwatch… and to me."

"Angela…"

She silenced him, "I understand now why you did the things that you did. I understand why you went back to your Blackwatch mentality when the rest of us were treating you like you were still one of them. Maybe that's our fault. Maybe we should have realized that you changed too, for the better."

"And from now on I want to keep being better," McCree nodded, "Blackwatch is gone and so are the Deadlocks. You, Tracer, and Winston… you guys are my future. Overwatch is where I belong."

Angela beamed happily and idly touched his shirt collar, "I believe you."

"I'm glad. After all, you were the one who first welcomed me to the team with open arms."

The doctor rested her forehead to his, "Then let me welcome you back home."

McCree leaned in and pressed his lips to Angela's in a long tender kiss. While they didn't have to say anything more, the intensity of that quiet intimate moment spoke volumes to things they had been thinking and feeling over the course of many years of serving together.

When they finally parted for air, they exchanged a quiet smile while holding each other before McCree spoke, "I was just thinking, isn't there some kind of code of ethics that says you shouldn't get involved like this with your patients?"

"Hmm… you're right," she said, "I guess I'll have to wait until you get better and you're not my patient anymore. Or maybe I can have Winston take care of you instead?"

"You wouldn't…" McCree balked, "Umm… couldn't I just find some other way to repay you in the mean time?"

Angela laughed and gave him one more quick kiss before rising again, "Now Jesse, you know I don't do this work for any kind of special reward… but if you're offering, I won't turn it down either. Just get well soon. I'll check in on you in a couple hours."

As she left the infirmary, Jesse McCree smiled and laid his head back on the pillow. He was still in pain and feeling exhausted after the ordeal of the last several days, but it had been worth it. It felt good to do right again, especially alongside his old friends and comrades. What was that phrase Angela was always fond of saying? Helping others was its own reward? At that moment, Jesse McCree was certain that it couldn't have been more true.

* * *

Meanwhile, at the other end of the base, Winston and Lena joined their mysterious new guest in one of the lounges. The old soldier stood by the window, looking outside quietly while standing straight. When the doors opened and the two Overwatch agents entered, the soldier turned toward them slowly. "How is the cowboy doing?"

"He's resting. Dr. Ziegler said he was going to be fine," Winston said while lumbering over. "I was against the idea of letting you come here with us, but we sort of owe you a debt of gratitude too. Thank you for your help in the last battle."

The soldier gave a gruff laugh and nodded quietly. "I figured I might as well help since no one else was going to."

Lena approached curiously and eyed the newcomer, "About that. What's your deal with Reaper anyway? Do you have some kind of fight against Talon like we do?"

The old soldier thought it over and shrugged, "I have some unfinished business with them. As for the man you call Reaper, I've been hunting him for some time now. His real name is Gabriel Reyes, and my issues with him are personal."

The two Overwatch agents froze and looked to each other in shock before Winston frowned, "Wait… how do you know Gabriel too? You aren't…"

"A member of Overwatch?" the soldier asked gruffly as he produced one of the organization's transmitting beacons, "I used to be."

Lena's eyes went wide with surprise and wonder as she stepped closer, "Who are you?"

The soldier regarded her silently for a long drawn out moment before he removed his menacing visor. Lena and Winston could only gasp in shock as they recognized the scarred wizened face of the man underneath it all. "Lena. Winston."

"No… this can't be. You're supposed to be dead," the gorilla gasped.

Jack Morrison, the former field commander of Overwatch looked over his two former charges with a hard pair of eyes, "I'm not dead yet. As far the rest of the world is concerned, I still am and it's probably better that I stayed that way."

He turned around and looked out the windows toward the skies, "I'm glad to see that some of you returned to answer the call. Thank you."

Lena chewed her lip before hesitantly speaking up again, "So… what do we do now, sir?"

Jack glanced back to look at her with a grim expression, "We do what we've always done. The world is becoming a dangerous place again and the battle goes on. Reaper and the Talon organization might be aiming to start this new war, but I can tell you this much. Overwatch is going to damn well finish it."

* * *

 **A/N:  
Hey everyone! I hoped you liked this different take on the beginning of Overwatch's recall. I also thought I'd show some support for the McCree/Mercy ship too. For anyone interested, I will be planning to do another story involving some of the other younger characters getting recruited too. Hope to see you there and thanks again for reading!**


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